


Angel of Ash

by AmberKnight



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Gen, Headcanon, Military Inaccuracies, OCs are more for plot building than anything, Rape, Unreliable Narrator, War, and it kinda extends from that, be prepared for the long haul people, i see like none of them so i decided to write one, i write very slow so please bare with me, inaccuracies in general tbh, it starts off with what i think her early life was like, most of this takes place pre-Overwatch, no other actual canon characters will show up later, no pairings happen until later so ill update when that happens, so many headcanons, verrrrry slow build, yeah its kinda dark, yes this is an Ana centric fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberKnight/pseuds/AmberKnight
Summary: "Hate begets hate; the death of a single being, whether man or machine, can alter the course of history. Remorse, revenge, remission; the Ouroboros of suffering.Funny, she thought, looking back on how it all began, no one ever thinks about those lost on the opposing side until it's too late."Follow the life of Ana Amari, from her childhood to her induction to Overwatch.





	1. Ouroboros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic takes place in 2055 (which is where I think the Omnic Crisis started to get more hairy).
> 
> I absolutely fell in love with this game when it first came out. I just love the lore and all the untold stories behind the actual gameplay.
> 
> This is my first fic on Ao3, and it's my first actual writing since I was in 7th grade, so I hope it goes well.
> 
> Criticism is always welcome! Please let me know if you find any mistakes, and I'll do my best to get to them!
> 
> I'm a very slow writer, so please be patient with me as you join me in this adventure.
> 
> Enjoy! :3

Ana Amari was ten when she lost her mother.

The endless sound of bombs dropping and the screech of metal on metal made her deaf to the approaching end. When plumes of fire arose in the distance, blooming like a desert flower, she turned her head and became blissfully blind. Burnt and decayed flesh made her immune to the constant smell of death. The constant diminish of their food and water rations left her with a prevalent hunger and thirst, tongue too dry to taste the bland food their rations provided. Ana Amari had all but lost her ability to feel before her teenage years.

The Omnic Crisis had been raging for years, long since before her birth. Tired of being oppressed by their creators, the Omnics fought for their right to integrate into human-dominated society. Their leaders fought under ideals of peace and tranquility between their organic brethren, but extremists committed violent actions against those they claimed to love. False pretenses lead to nothing but death and despair on both sides of the war.

Hate begets hate; the death of a single being, whether man or machine, can alter the course of history. Remorse, revenge, remission; the Ouroboros of suffering.

 _Funny_ , she thought, looking back on how it all began, _no one ever thinks about those lost on the opposing side until it's too late._

 

* * *

 

It began in 2050. Although the first wave of Omnics leveled the majority of Cairo, it was still a bustling city. The humans who had built bunkers and safe houses lived on the surface to spite the Omnics that had destroyed their city; although the ones who had barely lived through the first wave hid underground in equal parts fear and paranoia. Governmental control ensured that no Omnic would be able to make it past their defences surrounding the city, electrified gates and constant vigilance made sure of it; although the rumor of an EMP bomb within the city limits was much more threatening to the machines.

Underneath an old house, decrepit and black with soot, a mother and daughter lived happily. Glass lay broken on the concrete floor and trinkets rumbled with every tremor and shake of a bomb dropping nearby. The lights in the ceiling had long since burnt out, the only source of light being what shown through the bars of the tiny windows built high into the walls, just above the ground. Well used paths within the bunker were visible through paths made from dirt and sand trekked in from the outside. In the corner of the room was a small, unused kitchenette, as the rations they received were always pre-made and thus made the concept of making their own food an unheard of idea. A twin sized mattress lay underneath the small window on the floor, well-used and worn, but loved. Empty ration packages and MRE’s given to them through a connection with Helix Security International lay scattered throughout the bunker, nowhere and everywhere was a place to place trash that would soon be forgotten about by the occupants.

The middle aged mother kneeled on the concrete ground of the bunker beneath her decrepit house, legs tucked under her body for balance. Dark hands tucked a few strands of graying hair behind a partially torn earlobe, a soft smile gracing her youthful face, golden eyes dancing in the dim light coming through the barred windows. Bruises and welts littered her otherwise flawless skin, painting the dark canvas in splotches of pink and red. A beautiful violet cotton tob sebleh, bestrewn with sunset orange flowers woven into the material with silk, was draped over strong shoulders and a pair of black shintijan; a matching sunset hijab was wrapped firmly yet delicately around her head, only a few hairs out of place. In front of the woman, her daughter smiled brightly. The girl’s black hair was thin and greasy, dirt patches covering her soft skin. She was garbed in a navy blue kaftan with a black laced neckline that hung loosely from her lithe figure in hopes of a growth spurt. Both women’s clothing had been torn and ripped in numerous places, but there was no reason to spend the little currency they had on clothing if it had yet to fall off their bodies.

The mother, Asli Amari, ran her fingers through her daughter’s dark locks in preparation for a braid. “What kind do you want, _habiibii_?”

A soft giggle answered her. “Something cool, Mama. I want to make Kamilah jealous.”

“Of course, Ana.”

The minutes passed as Asli began to braid her young one’s hair, nimble fingers working the greasy hair into a smooth five strand braid. Ana committed each stroke, tug, and gentle pull to memory.

_Over. Under. Cross. Repeat._

The small window of their bunker showed the beginning of the setting sun. Pinks, purples, and oranges mixed together into a pastel sea that touched the stars. A plume of fire rose in the distance, but they paid it no mind, used to the constant fear of being taken out by an unseen threat. Gunfire was an ever present white noise.

“How does it look, dear?” the woman asked, pulling her hands away from Ana's hair and inspect her work. “Is it to your liking?”

With a soft smile, Asli turned her daughter around to look in her eyes. She picked up a broken mirror that laid on the cement floor of their bunker, cautious of the broken glass that came from the most recent bomb that shook their city. She held the mirror up to Ana's face so she could see the work on her hair.“Cool enough to make Kamilah jealous?”

The younger Amari nodded excitedly, dark brown eyes shining. “Yes! I love it, Mama!” Ana leapt at her mother, wrapping her thin, wiry arms around her neck as she kissed her cheek. “Thank you so much! Can I go show Kamilah?”

“Of course, _habiibii_. Be home before the sun sets, I don’t want you caught outside at night. Best hurry, now.”

With a nod, the girl released her mother and ran up the stairs that lead outside, mindful of the broken wood and exposed nails. She opened the door and carefully maneuvered through what had once been their standing home. The half collapsed roof made the journey into the city difficult but manageable. Glassless windows exposed the blackened interior, furniture covered in soot and blood. She spared a glance toward the crumbled wall, a pool of dried blood staining the once white floor rug, a pair of strong legs sticking out from under the rubble. Ana suppressed a shiver up her spine and turned away from the legs to climb over an overturned canvas couch.

_“Papa, I’m scared.”_

With a gulp, the child looked over her shoulder as she climbed over the back of the couch.

_The house wouldn’t stop shaking. Why was it shaking? The screaming wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t-_

Ana closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

_“Papa!”_

_The roof began to cave, she was traumatized, frozen in place, looking out the window in horror as the fires raged outside. Her neighbors were fleeing from their homes, only to get shot by tall machines with angry red eyes as soon as they stepped outside. She could hear the crying of her neighbor’s baby as their house filled with smoke that stung her eyes, but she couldn’t blink or turn away._

_Death was inside, death was outside._

_They were surrounded._

_The house continued to shake._

_The windows blew open._

_Lights fell from the ceiling._

_“Ana!”_

_She was falling, broken glass digging into her small hands, leaving angry red lines of blood on the wooden floor. A sob escaped her lips, she couldn’t move._

_She couldn’t move, her body was not her own, she was being moved. Strong yet firm hands picked her up and cradled her close and the world moved so fast around her. She could only watch in horror over a strong shoulder as the world crumbled around her. The coppery sting of blood drew her attention to the fallen roof, blood pooling out from under the shingles. Recognizable shoes stuck out from the rubble, and she reached out a hand with a loud cry._

_“Papa!”_

Ana opened her eyes with a shaky breath, tears flowing freely, and she ran. She ran outside the home that had turned against them when the bombs started to fall, from her broken father that they couldn’t retrieve from under the broken roof that had once kept them safe and warm because everyone was too busy grieving over their own losses. Her mother, as strong as she was, could not move the rubble that held her husband hostage in the crushing darkness. The young girl ran through the streets littered with debris, climbing over broken cars and weaving between the small cracks in big buildings. Tears blurred her vision, but she kept moving. She needed a distraction, a way to leave behind the images burned in her head and the screams that haunted her at night. The child wiped her brown eyes with the sleeve of her kaftan to clear her vision, eyes red and swollen with recurring grief, as she approached her destination.

Trees, once green and vibrant, now lay in a pile of ash; uprooted flowers, dead and burnt, line the winding pathway that lead to the palace; the winding cobblestone path was covered in potholes large enough to swallow the young girl whole. The high walls that once surrounded the palace grounds were devastated by the invading Omnic army, leaving crumbling gaps in the structure large enough for an elephant to pass through. The palace was stained black with soot, the large dome nothing more than a crater surrounded by marble pillars. The orange sunset gave rise to a depressing silhouette of what was once a symbol of Egyptian power and architectural achievement.

Her friend Kamilah Seif had been lucky. With her family’s relation to the President, they had been secured in a bunker beneath the Heliopolis Palace. Even with resources and personnel spread thin, the remains of the palace were heavily guarded. They paid the small child no mind as she trekked through what was once a beautiful garden, as she made daily visits to the other young girl. A couple guards smiled and waved at her as she passed, and Ana responded in kind. She walked up the stairs and went right once inside, walking down a narrow hallway before reaching a brown door with a golden knob. She knocked twice before entering, a secret code between her and Kamilah.

“Ana!” an excited voice called from the depths of the bunker, and equally excited face peaking out from the shadows at the base of the stairs. “You came! I thought your mother wasn't going to let you come here so late?”

She nodded, self consciously gripping her braided hair as she descended the stairs. “I can't stay long. Mama wants me back before the sun sets.”

“She still doesn't want you out at night? All those stories of boogeymen in the dark are lies. Father says no one can get into the city because of the military. He says we even have something called an EMP, so there's no way they're attacking us again.”

“Kamilah, she's my Mama. I gotta do what she says.”

“Even when she's stupid?”

“Mamas not stupid!” Ana cried, both fists balling in anger at her side. “She knows a lot! She just wants me safe, Kamilah.”

A scoff echoed throughout the bunker, followed by a small _click_ , and then Kamilah was faintly illuminated by a candle. “Uncle is the one keeping you safe, Ana. Not your mother. He's the one making sure no robots can hurt us again. Father says Uncle is smart and knows what he's doing.” In the faint light, the young Amari could only make out her friend's curly black hair and rose pink kaftan, a small frown on her face. “You don't need to worry, Ana. Nothing bad will happen to us again. Uncle said so. He wants all of us here to be safe.” Looking over and into Anas soft brown eyes, Kamilah smiled, wanting nothing more than to lift the solemn atmosphere surrounding them. “Did your mother braid your hair? I like it.”

A smile spread across Ana's face, but her eyes held worry and anger, appreciating but not wanting the change of subject. There was still much more the young girl wanted to tell her friend. “Yeah, Mama spent a lot of time on it. She called it a five strand braid when she first did it.”

“Do you think she can teach me how to do it?”

“Yeah! Mama's really good with hair.”

Kamilah smiled and lead Ana over to her room in the corner of the bunker. The bunker under the palace was largest one Ana had ever seen, and the size of it sent the young Amari into shock when she first was invited into it. There were four small bedrooms lining the far wall, each containing a twin sized mattress, a small window, and a small desk with drawers for storage. At the far end of the line of bedrooms lay an adjacent bathroom containing a toilet, sink, and shower. There was a kitchen with a functioning stove and refrigerator because of the generator, which was only used to preserve and cook food. It was a little known fact that the bunker under the Presidential palace was one of the few in Cairo that still had running water. Ana had been sent for water there on more than one occasion from her mother when they were dizzy from dehydration.

Kamilah sat down on her mattress, patting the spot next to her, and Ana gladly followed the silent command. “How're you and your mother doing?”

“We're fine. Me and Mama wanna clean up our basement a little, though, ‘cause there's a lot of trash everywhere. But we keep forgetting to ‘cause there's so much to do to help the people who don't have a home.”

“How sweet.”

“How're you doing, Kamilah?”

“Great! Father and I went on a hunt for flowers to make a bouquet for mother. There's so little left, so father suggested we go and see if there's any left in the flower shop off the main square. And somebody left bouquets of flowers on the street! They weren't pretty or colorful, but they were alive. They were put by a picture of this guy, which was weird, because pictures are supposed to be inside and not outside. I took one and I told father about the other ones, and he said that he was happy I told him so we could get more flowers for mother.”

Ana nodded and listened intensely to her friend's anecdote. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that no rays of sunlight were pouring through the small glass window near the top of the ceiling. Her brown eyes widened and she gasped, “I have to go! Mama's gonna be worried!”

She leapt off the bed and ran for the stairs, ignoring Kamila's shout of her name. The young girl stumbled up the stairs, almost falling over twice in her haste to get home. Outside was quiet, save for the gunfire in the distance. She ran down the cobblestone path and weaved between the armed guards patrolling the palace grounds and darted through a hole in the walls. Slowly, Ana came to a stop, bent over with her hands on her knees as she panted heavily from exertion. As she gained her breath, her back straightened and she took inventory of her surroundings.

She was alone in the streets, faintly illuminated by the large lights on top of the guard towers. The footsteps of armed militants patrolling the border were faint, the soft laughter of a couple taking a late night stroll sounded from just around the corner. The shuffle of a rat digging through the debris came from right in front of her. Graffiti littered the standing buildings, black winged scarabs taking hold of the majority of the exterior. A chill ran up her spine and she swallowed thickly, her chest filled with anxiety.

Suddenly, there were heavy footsteps sounding behind the young girl, and every muscle in her body tensed.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Ana turned around with hesitation, the motion jerky. A man towered over her, a cigarette loosely hanging between scarred lips. A scar ran from over his left eye, starting at the brow bone, leaving the eye a useless ghostly white. Dirt and blood stained his white polo shirt and beige cargo pants, shoes scuffed as well. Even in the dim light, she could make out the black winged scarab tattoo on his left forearm, the butcher knife strapped to his thigh, and the brass knuckled adorning his hands.

Swallowing thickly, the young girl took a step back. “I-I’m on my way home. Mama’s w-worried,” she took a deep breath to bring herself back to composure. “I’ll be on my way now.”

The stranger stepped forward with a chuckle, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stomping on it to extinguish its flame. “Why the rush? It's a nice night, not a cloud in the sky. I'm sure your Mama could wait on you a little longer, especially if you've been out for so long anyway.” He moved so he was towering over the small girl, using his body to block out any escape route as he backed her into a corner. “There’s no need to be afraid. Just relax, come with me, and everything will be fine.”

Ana squeezed her eyes shut as a calloused hand brushed stray hairs out of her face before cupping her cheek. Tears began to form between her eyelids as the other hand trailed down her body, resting on her hip before squeezing roughly. The man leaned down to her level, hot breath brushing her ear, sending a chill down her spine.

“Everything will be fine,” he breathed.

“Ana!” someone cried from the darkness, voice laced with worry and rage. Asli Amari emerged from behind the rubble of a dismantled bus, eyes filled with fear but lips snarled in anger. Amber eyes turned to the man who had her daughter trapped. “Let go of her.”

Ana had never seen her mother angry before, and it was a sight to behold. Amber eyes glowed in the darkness, shadows fell across the lines and creases of her face, obscuring but not concealing how her features contorted with rage; her shoulders were tense and her hands were clenching and unclenching as if to keep herself in check. Her breath came in short pants as her eyes narrowed.

“I will not tell you again. Let go of her.”

A chuckle resonated from the stranger. “You’re in no position to tell me what to do.” The hand against the girl’s cheek slowly descended until it wrapped loosely around her thin neck. “I have no reason to do as you say. In fact-” A slow smile spread across his scarred face. The hand began to tighten, eliciting a choked gasp from the child. “I have all the position to tell you what to do.”

A low growl escaped her mother’s throat as Ana continued to choke, small hands clawing at larger ones in a pitiful attempts to pry them off. “What do you want?”

“Strip.”

A scowl marred Asli’s beautiful features. “Not until you release my daughter.”

All too suddenly, the hand constricting Ana’s airway disappeared. She fell to her knees, coughing up phlegm and sobbing as she breathed deeply, tears flowing freely, leaving shining streaks down her dark face. The man turned his body to face the mother, who rushed over to get daughter.

“ _Habiibii_ , are you alright? Did this man hurt you?” Gentle hands cupped the young girl's face, amber eyes looking worriedly into fearful brown. “Did this man touch you in any private place?” Asli asked sternly, eyes searching Ana’s body for bruises. At the shake of her daughter's head, the woman embraced the child, releasing a stuttered breath of relief. “Ana, I need you to be brave, okay? Mama’s going to be a while, so I need you to wait around the corner over there. I want you to sit down, close your eyes, and cover your ears. No matter what you hear, you _stay_ _put_. Do you understand, Ana?”

Sniffling, the young girl nodded. “U-uh huh.”

When released, she took a few hesitant steps back before turning and walking to the dismantled bus. She looked over her shoulder to see her mother's gentle smile, and she climbed into the bus. Ana sat down, pulling her knees to her chest as she heard them talk again.

“Are you satisfied?”

“On your knees.”

“You disgust me.”

“ _On your knees_.”

There was a rustle followed by a grunt. A soft “good girl” came from the man. There were wet sounds and deep, guttural moan. Ana tightened her arms around her legs, breath shaking with each intake of air. She stayed in her position until there was another rustle a few minutes later and her mother shouted then cried out in pain, causing Ana to jump at the sudden noise. Slowly, she stood up and peered around the broken doorway of the bus, face twisting into an expression of pure terror.

The strange man was clothed bent over her naked mother, one hand wrapped tight around her throat and the other firmly holding her hands above her head. Tears ran down Asli’s face, fresh with each thrust of the man's hips. Her bare legs were splayed helplessly against the ground, choked sounds leaving her throat as he adjusted his position to tower over her. His grunts were getting louder and louder, hands tightening around the helpless woman.

“Good girl, just like that…”

_What's he doing? Why's he hurting Mama?_

The man's hips moved erratically before he shuddered, body going tense as he threw the mother away from his body with a load groan, white streaks painting the dirty street. Asli gasped as she was released, choking on a sob as she curled up on herself. He breathed out a laugh as he stood, tucking his penis back into his pants before wiping the soot off his knees. “Better you than your daughter, huh?” A small smile graced his features as his gaze fell to the young girl shaking in fear only a couple feet ahead of him. “How much more are you willing to sacrifice for her?” Licking his lips, he turned back to the mother, who had wrapped her arms around herself. “I’d hate for you to find out.” He walked over to Ana with a small chuckle, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “ _Everything will be fine._ ” With that, he patted the girl on the head in an almost affectionate manner as he walked past, disappearing into the shadows surrounding the buildings.

Minutes passed, the child standing frozen in the darkness, unable to do anything but watch her mother sob as she attempted to recollect herself. Slowly, hesitantly, Ana walked back into the bus, sitting and bringing her knees to her chest, taking the position she was originally told to. Her trembling eyes shut as she attempted to even out her breathing.

_Be strong for Mama._

A short while later, Asli knocked on the side of the bus with a gentle smile that didn’t quite reach her hollow eyes. Her hijab couldn’t hide her black eye or split lip, but her clothes did well enough to hide the bruises and marks littering the rest of her body. “It’s all right, _habiibii_. Mama’s back. Did you stay here like I said?”

Ana nodded.

“Good girl.”

_Good girl._

_He was bent over her, and she screamed but he wouldn’t stop. Good girl. Good girl. Good-_

“Yes, Mama,” Ana said as she stood from her position, smiling at her mother in hope that it would do something to get rid of the emptiness in her eyes.

It didn’t.

“Good.” Another empty smile. “Let’s go home. Mama’s tired.”

The young girl nodded and took her mother’s offered hand. She squeezed her hand tightly, afraid that the woman was going to disappear if she were to let go. Hand in hand, mother and daughter trekked home in silence, the darkness consuming them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that wraps up the first chapter!
> 
> Let me know what you guys think, and if you find any errors.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. The Camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait with getting this chapter out. I had finals for summer classes.
> 
> Don't take summer classes.
> 
> Especially don't take 8am summer classes.
> 
> This chapter is un-Beta'd, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know!
> 
> I'm also looking for a Beta reader, so if you're interested let me know!
> 
> Enjoy! :3

Asli Amari had never been a cold woman. She was well known in the neighborhood to be the doorstep to go to when you were cold and hungry, as she always set out extra plates for any surprise visitors. She was openly affectionate, to the point where it was common to joke that she was cheating on her husband with the woman next door. She was openly referred to as the grandmother of the neighborhood because of her kind and caring nature.

The mother that Ana Amari knew died six years ago.

The past six years had not been kind to the Amari’s. Omnics had broken through Cairo’s defences by the cover of night, causing a mass panic and evacuation of the city. The images of her homeland set ablaze and the streets painted with the blood of those she had become close to were burned in her mind. Sometimes, the girl thought she heard their voices or saw their faces around the corner of their new home.

Ana hated the camp. The chain link fence that surrounded the enclosure made her feel as if she was a wild animal in a zoo, and the stares by passers-by only made the feeling worse. The dirt roads were littered with trash and human excrement, as the bare essentials were lacking. Small huts composed of tin roofs and thin wooden walls, tarps laid across doorways for privacy and to keep them dry from the rain. Barrels with open tops collected rainwater and was then rationed out, some always stored away in some unknown location in case there was ever a drought. Food rations were more scarce than Cairo, and oftentimes the inhabitants went days without food before the military would give them rations, seeming as though their well-being was nothing but a mere afterthought. There were far too many people for the tiny, walled off section in Spain. Close quarters meant high tensions as well. There were fights over basic necessities and territory every night; it was common knowledge that anyone outside after dark was a target to the predators in the dark.

Both her and her mother were terrified of the dark.

Their home was small and built from wood and tin. There was a single room that functioned as their living room, dining room, and bedroom. A spare, bundled up tarp laid on top of the ground served as their communal bed, and as their dinner table when it was spread out. The inside of their hut was clear of trash and debris, a designated barrel just outside the cloth door served as their trash can. The only furniture they had was an old, well-used wicker chair that Ana’s mother used to read her days away.

“Ana, get me my shawl, please. I fear today’s going to be chilly.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Asli was curled in her wicker chair in the far corner of their hut, just below the hole they cut out in the wall for a makeshift window. Her legs were tucked under her frail body in an attempt to make herself small and unnoticeable, careful not to make too much noise as she turned the pages of the family Quran she was currently reading.

Asli had aged in the past years. Her black hair was streaked with gray, the split ends poking out from the corners of her dirtied hijab. Her once vibrant amber eyes were now dull after the events that took place six years ago. A scar cut across the corner of her mouth, the line a deep pink. Once full cheeks were now hollow, wrinkles deeply ingrained into her forehead. A long, dark green dress covered the entirety of her arms and legs, but paranoia and trauma made her cover herself in layers on a daily basis, no matter the temperature.

_That man took my mother away from me._

Ana stood from her cross-legged position on the tarp, placing her book down beside her as she went outside to retrieve her mother’s signature violet shawl that they had delicately placed between the holes of the chain link fence so it could dry after their most recent rainstorm.

“Ana!”

Kamilah bounded up to her. Having forgone a hijab years ago, her long curly hair flowed behind her in a tight ponytail. She looked just as she did six years ago; thin, leaned-muscled, and tall. Wiry arms had developed into thick coils of muscle, lean shoulders broadened to support the moderate weight of her chest, and fragile hips had grown to properly support her weight. Her face was littered with freckles and small scars, but it still held a childlike structure. Her blue jeans and pink tank top were dirtied and torn, but she refused to wear anything else in the heat and humidity that was ever present in Spain. Ana, although constantly shorter than the majority of her friends, had changed drastically. She was no longer the weak girl she was six years ago. Thin, fragile limbs were firm with muscle; small hips broadened just as her shoulders to give her an hourglass figure. Her back was always straight and firm, exuding confidence and a firm attitude. Her hair had grown down to her chest, the thick locks only put up off the back of her neck when the days in Spain were too hot for her to stand, just as this day was. Her round face with puffy cheeks had grown angular with high cheekbones and chapped pink lips always pressed into a firm line. Just as Kamilah, Ana didn’t wear a hijab, as the fabric was much more needed to be used for bandages. Ana wore blue jeans littered with holes and a red graphic T-shirt covered in dirt and dust.

“Kamilah,” the shorter teen nodded in greeting.

“You'll never guess what I did!” Kamilah grinned, eyes shining.

“Please tell me I don't have to bail you out of something again.”

A scoff. “No, none of that. Don't you trust me, Ana?”

She was met with silence. With a sigh, Kamilah conceded.

“I signed up for the draft!”

“ _What?_ ”

Kamilah leaned on her right leg with a sigh, crossing arms over her chest. “I don’t know why I tell you these things if you aren’t even going to listen.”

Ana glared up at her friend, angry at the accusation. “I heard you, but I was surprised. You really can’t blame me.”

“That’s the exact same thing Uncle said.”

Kamilah’s Uncle Ammon had taken custody of her after the second Omnic invasion in Egypt. Her father had been mowed down by machine gunfire when the Omnics came while on his way home; his body nothing more than bloodied paste on the scalding sidewalk, and her mother had been crushed by falling debris in the first invasion, brittle bones turned to dust under heavy stones.

Since the second invasion, Ammon had become the unofficial leader of their refugee camp. He was the President in Egypt, and so it was unanimously decided that he would continue his leadership despite the change of location. The military guarding their compound didn’t know about his unofficial power over the captive population, but they would surely exploit it if they did, as riots regarding unsafe and unsanitary living conditions were an almost daily occurrence. Ammon was a fair and just ruler back in Egypt, but recent events had changed his moral compass. He no longer cared about both sides of a story, but the decision that was the quickest to think of and the easiest to implement. Thieves were hung by bedsheets at night, their swinging bodies surrounded by a crowd thirsty for blood and revenge. Murderers were stoned to death after the sun had set, their broken bodies buried in unmarked graves under the center square of the camp. Rapists were set aflame, their genitals doused in oil and then lit, their bodies nothing more than shriveled, charred husks carelessly tossed into the largest trash pile in the lowest corner in the camp.

In Egypt, such abuse of power would be a just cause for impeachment and trial, but no one dared to confront their de-facto leader out of fear of wrongful accusation and punishment.

“What made you decide to join?”

Kamilah’s lips slowly turned into a sad smile. “It’s the only way out of this hell-hole.”

“That’s not-”

“There’s no help coming for us. No one wants to take in refugees from any war-torn country. The Spanish government decided that placing us in these camps with deplorable conditions was the easier option, and, they are not wrong, but-” the taller girl’s voice cracked as she wiped away the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “It’s Hell, Ana. You know what they do to girls like us when we get older, don’t you? Our guardians sell us off to the highest bidder, like we’re some sort of _item_ to be bought and used to make babies.”

“Kamilah…” Ana’s brown eyes softened, arms extending towards her friend.

Kamilah gladly accepted the embrace, falling against her friend’s chest as her body shook. “I-I don’t want that to happen, not to us, not to _anybody_ . It’s as if all civility was lost after the bombs first started to drop. They cage us like animals, then they starve us to make us malleable to their whim. They taunt us with a new home where we aren’t blinded by fire, but they burn us just the same. At least back in Cairo we had _freedom_ . I don’t want to live in a world where freedom is dictated by fear mongering.” A vicious shudder ran through her body, a choked sob escaping her lips, voice riddled with emotion. “ _That’s_ why I joined, Ana. To make a difference. To make a change. I don’t want future generations to grow up in a world where they don’t even get to see their puppeteer.”

Ana ran her fingers through her friends ponytail as she began to sob. Her hands trailed down to the nape of her neck and gently rubbed soothing patterns into the tense muscles, arms tightening around her friend.

_There has always been a loneliness in freedom, I suppose._

The shorter teenager’s heart broke more with each successive sob that came from Kamilah’s lips.

_I’ve just been too blinded by my own grief to see that of those around me._

Ana looked down to gaze at her friend’s shaking figure, the sobs having quieted down into soft whimpers.

“I’m sorry, Kamilah.”

Brown, bleary eyes looked up at Ana’s soft expression in surprise. A soft “What?” escaped from trembling lips.

“I didn’t know that’s how you felt about this situation.” She cleared her throat. “I agree. These conditions are deplorable. There’s nothing for us here, and even if we were to live a full life, we will still die behind this fence. The only thing we can do is to step outside this cage and make a difference. Our only viable option is to join the military and fight against the Omnics.” Ana’s lips turned into a soft smile. “I want everyone to have the same freedom we used to have.”

“Ana-” tears welled up in the teenager’s trembling eyes.

“Hush,” a smile still on her face, the shorter girl brushed away the tears gathering at the corners of her friend’s eyes with her thumbs. Leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss on Kamilah’s forehead. “No more tears. You don’t have to fight this war alone, Kamilah. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Ana, you can’t possibly mean-”

“I do.”

Kamilah’s mouth fell open in shock. She removed herself from Ana’s comforting embrace to straighten herself to her full height, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and her nose with the bottom part of her tank top. “I cannot let you do that, Ana. Not for my sake. Your mother needs you here, not out in the battlefield. You are all she has left. Me?” A dry, humorless chuckle escaped her lips. “I have nothing but an Uncle who would rather cast me aside than take care of me any longer. I’ve long since used up all his good will and patience.”

Ana’s body tensed at the mention of her mother, glancing towards the shawl in the fence blowing gently in the breeze. After a moment, her brown eyes turned to look up into her friend’s. “I’ll stay with you until the end, Kamilah. Yes, Mom needs me, but she’ll understand when I tell her that we’re fighting for _all_ of our futures. She’ll want us to do what we believe is right.”

Ana took the violet shawl into her hand and gently took it out of the fence, using her other hand to untangle it from the wires.

_She has to understand. It will break her heart, but-_

She clenched her hand around the article of clothing.

_I will make sure she understands._

“I don't want to leave her alone, Kamilah,” Ana muttered, eyes turning to the shawl in her hands.

She looked up as Kamilah put her hand on her shoulder.

“I understand. This is my choice to make, you don't have to risk your life alongside mine. I appreciate the offer, but your mother needs you.” She cleared her throat. “I do not know what occurred six years ago, but your mother has changed. I don't know if the distance between you two will cause her to break fully. She is a sweet woman, but she is heavily dependent on you. I don't know anyone who would be willing to take care of her in your absence.”

“I don't either,” Ana admitted. “However, my point still stands. I will join you in the military, Kamilah. I'll find someone to take care of my Mom while I'm away. I'm sure somebody wouldn't mind; she was well-loved back in Cairo.”

Kamilah nodded, turning her gaze behind Ana to look through the holes in the chain link fence.

Rolling mountains were covered by flourishing fauna. An array of colorful flowers lined the near forest border. Trees as tall as their huts almost overhung their enclosure, tall and strong; one could reach up and touch the vibrant green leaves if they were tall enough. On occasion, a curious rabbit or deer would approach the fence, only to be startled by starving hands attempting to catch them.

“I want to taste freedom again before I die,” Kamilah muttered.

“So so I, Kamilah. So do I.”

They stood in silence for a moment, a look of agreement passing between the childhood friends. Without a word, Kamilah patted Ana’s shoulder in an affectionate manner before departing, thumbs tucked into the front pockets of her tattered jeans. Ana watched her leave, and as soon as she was out of sight, left the fence and went back into her hut.

Asli had not moved from her wicker chair, and the young Amari suspected that she hadn't even turned the page of the Quran while she was away.

“You were gone awhile, Ana. I was afraid you'd gotten lost.”

_And leave me as well._

Ana smiled softly, although a chill ran down her spine at her mother's implication. “Just talking to Kamilah, Mom.”

“How lovely. How's she been, Kamilah? Well, I hope.”

“She's been doing alright, Mom.”

Ana walked over to her mother, draping the shawl around her thinning shoulders. Asli hummed softly but otherwise gave no answer to her daughter, instead turning the page in her book.

“Mom,” the teenager started, hesitant. Then, softly, “I'm going to join the military.”

Asli froze, her hand resting on the side of her book. After a brief moment, a shudder ran through her body, hands trembling. She looked up at her daughter, an unreadable expression on her face, amber eyes clouded with fear. Then, softly, almost discernable, “What?”

“I'm going to join the military,” Ana repeated, voice firm but eyes staring out the window to the lush fields behind their hut, unable to meet the terror in her mother's eyes. A terror and anxiety she hadn't seen in six years.

“No, you can't. Ana, please-”

_Don't leave me._

“Mom, I can't-”

_Sit by and do nothing._

“But-”

_I don't want to be alone. I can't be alone. Please don't leave me alone._

_I'm afraid, too, Mom._

A sob ripped from the mother's throat, hoarse and stricken with grief and loss. Once proud eyes were clouded with fear and longing, tears flowing freely and running down her face. Shoulders shook with every wail of grief, book dropping to the floor, forgotten, forgone for Asli to bury her face in her hands, fingers finding purchase on the fringes of her own hair. A full body shudder ran through the woman as she screamed. Again, and again, and again. Wails tore from her throat, anxious _no’s_ filling the gaps between breaths.

Ana could do nothing but watch her mother cry. Her body wouldn't move on its own, frozen in fear and anxiety. Her own eyes watered, but she wouldn't let her tears fall.

_Be strong for Mama._

The young Amari took a deep breath, eyes closing momentarily to collect herself, resolve crumbling under the sound of her mother's sorrowful cries. Kamilah’s words rang in her head. “I don't want to live in a world where freedom is dictated by fear mongering. I can't.” She took another breath, body shuddering as she continued, brown eyes locked firm on her mother. “I want to make a change. I can't do that staying behind these walls. I can't let the Omnics tear through our society again.” She stepped forward, placing a hand gingerly on her mother's trembling shoulder, the wails having subsided, determination on her face. “I can't stand by idly and do nothing in the face of a crisis. You raised me to stand up for what I believe in, and to fight for my morals. I have to do this, Mama. I _need_ to do this.”

Silence hung heavy in the hut after Ana finished her speech. Her mother sat in her chair, eyes red and puffy, lips parting momentarily and then closing. She hiccupped and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Her trembling hands traveled to grip tightly at the one that lay on her shoulder.

“I-I understand, _habiibii_ ,” Asli spoke in a soft, broken voice. The once proud, unbreakable woman now sat defenseless in an old wicker chair. Long, thin legs pulled themselves closer to her chest. “I know you're doing what you believe is right, but I can't help wanting to keep you by my side. I'm… afraid, _habiibii_.”

“I am too, Mama,” Ana muttered.

“I know I can't stop you from doing what you want. I'm not strong enough to.” The mother took a deep breath to maintain her composure as she threatened to fall apart once more. “I guess you grew up so fast, and I just couldn't see how independent you've become over these years.” Another deep breath. “Just promise me one thing, Ana.”

“Anything.”

“Stay safe. Do not handle anything you aren't fully capable of. I can't lose you, _habiibii_.”

_Not like you've lost me._

Ana nodded, taking a deep breath as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. “Of course, Mama.”

“You'll always have a place back here.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

A soft smile graced Asli’s face, a smile that Ana hasn't seen in years. “When do you leave?”

“Two days,” Ana responded.

“You need to prepare a bag, then.”

“Mama, I have nothing to bring but the clothes on my back.”

“Nonsense.” With a smile still on her face, Asli released her daughter's hands to pick up the fallen Quran, placing a gentle kiss on its binding before extending it towards Ana.

“Mama, I can't-”

“Please, Ana.” The desperation in her mother's eyes made the teenager swallow thickly before accepting the text.

“Thank you, Mama.”

“You're welcome, _habiibii_.”

Ana took a deep breath. “Mom, I don't want to leave you alone here. I can find somebody to help take care of you-”

“Nonsense, _habiibii_. You've done enough for me, I can manage on my own.” Asli’s words were hollow and unconvincing, sending a strike of regret through Ana’s chest.

“I need to, Mom.”

_It's the least I can do for leaving you behind._

“I'm sure our new neighbors will be happy to oblige your request, _habiibii_. I don't need constant attention,” Asli chuckled.

_I'm just worried what you'll do when I'm gone._

_I can't lose you a second time._

Swallowing her own anxiety, Ana nodded. “Okay, Mom. I'll ask them tomorrow.”

Asli gave her daughter another smile, the light in her eyes returning. She reached out her hands to cup Ana’s face, bringing her down to kiss her forehead. “I love you, Ana.”

Ana couldn't help but return the smile. “I love you too, Mom.”

_I want to make a change, too, Kamilah._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd you guys like it? Sorry that I'm kinda rushing it. I'm thinking this fic probs won't be more than about 10 chapters.
> 
> If you wanna chat, you can find my tumblr [ here ](http://all-aboard-the-sin-train.tumblr.com/)


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